Backstage
by CheatingAtMonkeyBall
Summary: It's Alison's first show at Glendale Community Theatre, and she's got some nervous jitters. Luckily Beth shows up with something that can help. "Beth, I can not take a shot before I go on stage." Soccer Cop


It was Alison's first performance at Glendale Community Theatre, and the troupe was scurrying around backstage in last minute preparation. Alison, a bit of a busy body, was fidgeting around her dressing room as she prepared her stage make up. They were performing an original show of course written by Aynsley and starring Aynsley. This was all typical, Alison thought bitterly of her best-friend-slash-monitor. The slash-monitor part had been added to Aynsley's title by Beth and had stuck as a habit, but that was a different and stomach churning story that would not help the nervous jitters Alison was experiencing at the moment.

Alison sighed as she went to apply her fake eyelashes when she heard a low "Whoa, what a face job," from behind. In the mirror she saw a reflection of herself and a smiling Beth Childs with a bouquet of flowers in her arms. Alison's stomach continued to flip flop with anticipation even as she turned and smiled warmly at her… well… clone. That word was still weird, and Alison didn't like using it. She didn't like knowing that her life was being toyed with, and even if Beth was one of her dopplegangers she helped Alison to forget about that upset of a life. "Hey, Ali," Beth greeting, holding the bouquet out in a gesture that suggested 'for you.'

"Beth," Alison breathes, taking the mixture of flowers from the girl, ignoring the warm tingling feeling in her stomach as their fingers grazed against each other, "these are lovely." There's a mixture of pinks and purples and just lively looking blooms that came together to form something so… just, put together. It was so_her_, Alison smiled as she inhaled the aroma of the flowers. At the same time, it was so not Alison as well if the pitter patter in her stomach was anything to go by.

Beth closed the door to the dressing room and stole the seat that Alison had vacated. The cop spun around in the chair once and shrugged nonchalantly, "I thought you would like them." Alison could see the other woman's desperate attempts at hiding a blush, and Alison had to smile at the fact that _that_ trait would be genetic. Suddenly Beth's eyes were focused on Alison's identical ones, and the cop was chewing on her lip. "I can't come to your show."

Those words caused a strange lurch in Alison's stomach and the soft smile that had distracted her before suddenly faltered. Of course Beth couldn't come, Alison reasoned. They looked alike, and of course everyone in suburban Scarborough would be abuzz about 'little orphan Alison's twin sister suddenly coming out of nowhere.' God, Aynsley would want to make an effing documentary about it. Still, the confession of what they both knew hit Alison hard. "Right," she said in an agreeing sort of way nodding her head and busying herself with analysing the bouquet further.

"Not that I don't want to," Beth added, sensing the disappointment in Alison's face. Beth had always known she couldn't come to the show and Alison as well, yet Beth couldn't blame her soccer mom duplicate for being upset about it. "I mean, I would love to. I know how much this means to you, and I know that Donnie can't make it to your break out performance either." Alison had to chuckle a bit at the term 'break out performance' since it was just a small community theatre production. "And," Beth continued, reaching out to grab Alison's wrist, "it's not because of the _clone_ thing either."

Beth paused at this statement, and Alison knew it was because the cop was waiting with baited breath for Alison to say her signature line. "Can you please not use the C word?" she said partially for her own sake but mostly for the amusement of Beth. Sure enough Beth broke into a grin at her statement. The cop tugged Alison forward with the hand around her wrist and whispered 'clone' so softly that Alison could barely hear it. Still, the word pierced her ears, and the soccer mom huffed annoyedly and paced over to the other side of the dressing room to turn on her curling iron. "Really, Beth?" she grumbled.

She soon felt a presence close behind her, and Alison was about to turn around to face the other woman when Beth hugged her doppleganger from behind. "Come on, Ali, I'm sorry," she said, a teasing smirk on her face, evident from her tone of voice, "You know I only do it because I love you." Something about those words made Alison's nervous stomach clinch again, and Beth absolutely could feel it with her hands resting right on the woman's abdomen. "You nervous, Ali?" Beth asked almost in a whisper, and Alison nodded without even thinking. Suddenly Beth pulled away and went to reach for her black purse and pulled two shot bottles of vodka from her purse. "Well, I can at least help with that."

Alison gasped in shock but couldn't help the flicker of temptation that passed through her eye as she glanced down at the alcohol in Beth's hand. "Beth," Alison whispered as if they were suddenly being watched, "I can not take a shot before I go on stage." Even as she said this, when Beth pushed the shot bottle in her direction, Alison grabbed it. Alison watched as Beth quickly downed her shot, a skill that Alison was unfortunately quickly picking up on since this C word stuff started messing with Alison's life. "You are a terrible influence," Alison grumbled as she twisted the top off the tiny bottle.

Beth's smug smile put Alison on edge. "Bottom's up," Beth said in a teasing manner, signaling for Alison to down the beverage. She did so, and Alison had to admit that the butterflies in her stomach were fluttering more calmly than they had since the last time she and Beth had gotten drunk together. Of course this was much less dramatic as it was one shot and on a happy occasion. Neither woman was as drunk or distressed as they had been that night.

Alison remembered getting the call from Beth on the pink phone - a mixture of their ideas. Beth liked the idea of communication; Alison liked the idea of pink. Before Alison could even get a 'hello' out of her mouth she heard a slurred, "It's Paul, Ali," and that voice sounded even more broken when she added, "I just know it." The hurt in Beth Child's tone made Alison drop the laundry she was folding and make her way to the basement. She locked the door to the wine cellar and grabbed a half empty bottle before settling down in the corner with the bottle resting in between her knees. "I don't even… I don't even think I _care_anymore, Ali. He's never here; what kind of _fucking_ life do I live anyway."

"I'm here, Beth," Alison said softly into the phone, plucking the loose cork out of the bottle. There was a silence on both ends, and both women knew that the other was taking a swig of whatever beverage they had fixed for themselves that night. Alison tried to focus on the bittersweet taste and not on the probability that Beth was taking a little bit more than a swig. She tried not to think of all the pain killers and prescriptions that constantly filled the woman's purse, and she definitely tried not to think of how many times this had happened before in just the short time the women had known each other. "I'm always here."

Now it was Beth's turn to drink with Alison, so Alison downed the vodka with a sour face at the strong taste. Beth absolutely chortled at the sight and ran a hand through Alison's straight dark hair. "Aww, don't tell me you're one of those _sorority girls_ who need something sweet to chase it down." Alison rolled her eyes and lightly tossed the little plastic bottle at Beth's chest. "Ow," Beth scoffed with mock hurt, "you're a mean drunk."

Alison rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. "You wish you could see me drunk," she teased right back, and Beth's eyes lit at her words. Alison moved to put a hand on Beth's cheek and for not-the-first time she had to marvel at how much softer Beth's face was. These wonderful images of Beth flew through her mind at the touch - Beth laughing, Beth teasing her, Beth smiling, that twinkle in her hazel eyes - and Alison had to admit that it wasn't just the nervous jitters for her show making her stomach flip. "I bet you're a clingy drunk."

"You're probably right," Beth whispered, and Alison hadn't even noticed how close they were to one another. Her palm started to sweat under Beth's cheek, but Beth's fingers tied into her hair in order to keep her from pulling away. Alison didn't know how to label these moments with Beth, these moments when they weren't _clones_. These were moments when they were two people - friends? more? - that actually meant something to each other. These moments felt like they would exist regardless of if they were clones.

A loud banging on Alison's dressing room caused both women to jump in their skin, but neither strayed from each other. "Thirty minutes, Alison," Aynsley called from the other side of the door, and Beth gave her a raised brow remembering the many bitchy comments Alison had said about Aynsley and her obsessive personality.

Alison rolled her eyes at Beth's look and called back to her best-friend-slash-monitor, "Thanks, Aynsley." Alison dropped her hand from Beth's cheek and began to say, "You should probably g-" but was interrupted by Beth's mouth. Alison's eyes fluttered closed almost instantaneously, but the moment was over before she could even comprehend what had happened. Beth pulled away and pulled her fingers out of Alison's hair. Alison blinked and kept glancing between Beth's sad eyes and the lip she was biting. "What the dickens was that?"

Beth pulled away from her doppleganger and went to grab her purse again. She opened the door to Alison's dressing room before turning back to smirk at the actress. "Good luck kiss," she said softly with a wink that made Alison's made-up cheeks flush even redder. "I'll see you later, Ali," Beth said quickly before slipping out the door. Alison went to go curl her hair and sucked in her lips. She felt the butterflies rise in her stomach, and this time she was certain that they weren't nervous jitters.

_I have so many Soccer Cop feels in my life that it makes me queasy. Once again, someone requested this on tumblr._


End file.
